


It's Lonely at the Top

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 16:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10364268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Oswald loses his temper at some hapless henchmen and Victor teaches him a lesson in manners. Oswald can't help it though, it's tough being King.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set around the start of s2.

“I’m surrounded by idiots!” Oswald barked at four sheepish looking henchmen. They were all shuffling from foot to foot and staring at their feet. 

The sight of the diminutive mob boss shouting and screaming at four men who were all nearly double his size and probably triple his weight would have been comical if it wasn’t so dramatically tyrannical. 

Said diminutive mob boss picked up the nearest thing he could find to throw (a full glass of wine) and hurled it in their general direction. When he threw it, the wine created a purple arch in the air before splattering over Oswald, the four henchmen, and the wall. The glass shattered against the same wall with a sharp crack. 

“Get out! All of you!” He ordered, pointing at the door with one hand and squeezing the head of his cane with the other. One other mistake from them, and he swore he would take off the cane’s head and use the hidden knife inside of it on them. 

The four large men rushed away and Oswald let out a loud sigh. 

“Idiots.” He muttered to himself, glaring over at the shattered glass. He had began wiping the sweat and wine off of his forehead when he heard a voice behind of him that made him nearly jump out of his skin.

“That wasn’t a very nice way to talk to them.” 

“Oh my g- Victor!” Oswald put a hand to his chest, as if forcing his heart back into his ribcage after the spectral assassin’s sudden appearance had almost made it stop altogether. “ _Don’t_ do that!” He hissed, eyes narrowing in accusation. “How long have you been standing there?”

“A few minutes.” Victor replied with a small shrug.

He took a few steps towards Oswald and Oswald, for some reason, felt himself moving backwards as Victor moved forwards. Then, he stopped himself. He forced himself to stand still and look his unwelcome guest in the eye. 

“What is it?” He asked. He wasn’t some little umbrella boy anymore. He was the King. Victor was just another one of his subjects. There was no need for him to be intimidated by him. Even if the man did have a certain _aura_ about him.

“Just checking in. I was wondering if you had any work for me.” 

“Well I-“

“But seeing how you treat your staff, I’m not sure I _want_ to work for you.” 

Oswald’s mouth hung open for a moment, then it closed, his jaw tightening as anger bubbled up inside of him. He was having a bad day. A stressful day. He didn’t need Victor Zsasz, notorious hitman, waltzing into his abode and lecturing him about good manners. Who the hell did this glorified hired muscle did he think he was?

“Fine.” Oswald smiled insincerely and walked past Victor, going to the long dining table and pouring himself a fresh glass of wine into one of the glasses that had escaped his wrath (this time). “I can find someone else easily enough. You’re not the only hitman in Gotham, Victor. Far from it. It was nice knowing yo- Ah!”

Before he could finish his dismissal, Victor had seized him by the wrist and had kicked out one of the many chairs that sat along the edge of the dining table. He sat down on it and pulled Oswald face first over his lap. 

“What on ea- Victor! Unhand me this instant!” The blood immediately rushed to his head and he flapped his limbs about inelegantly in an attempt to free himself from the highly undignified and unwelcome position. 

“Sorry, can’t do that.” Victor replied, sounding far too amused at the smaller man’s struggles to be decent. He was practically humming. “You clearly need a lesson in manners, Oswald.”

Oswald couldn’t remember Victor ever calling him by his first name before. It was always ‘boss’ or ‘Penguin’ or even ‘sir’. However, he didn’t have long to reflect on how this made him feel before Victor brought his hand down onto his upturned ass with a loud smack.

“Ow!” 

“Aw come on, that couldn’t have hurt.” Victor remarked, flipping the long tails of Oswald’s suit jacket up and out of the way of his target. 

Oswald’s face coloured to a deeper hue in response. “It did!” He insisted, although truthfully, he had yelped more out of shock than pain. 

“You’re not going to like this then.” Victor smacked him again, harder, and this time it really did hurt. Oswald cried out loudly and his hands reached back to shield himself, but Victor moved them out of the way. 

“Let me up this instant!” He demanded, but he was dismayed when it came out sounding more like a plea.

“After just two little slaps? I would have thought the big, bad King of Gotham could take more than that.” The assassin teased, his voice playful, almost affectionate.

Oswald could have screamed again. Victor was right, he was the King of Gotham. He was not some spoiled little brat who had been throwing his toys against the wall. He’d been disciplining his men, showing them who was boss, asserting his authority-

“Ow! Ow! Oww!” He bucked against the firm surface of Victor’s thighs as three more hard swats landed. Victor held in place with his other arm, otherwise Oswald would have definitely jumped up and off of his lap by now. “Victor! Please!”

“That’s more like it.” 

Oswald’s breath caught in his throat, Victor was running his hand over the areas he had just slapped, and it felt oddly pleasant. The sting still radiated, but Victor’s touch was soft, soothing. He let out an unconscious little whimper of pleasure, his legs parting slightly, encouraging the other man to keep touching him like _that_ , instead of spanking him. 

“You know, I like you quite a bit Oswald.”

Oswald hadn’t known.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, a warmth spreading beyond his sore backside to his groin, to his stomach, to his heart. Victor liked him?

“The way you were shouting at those men, that isn't you. It _shouldn’t_ be you. It’s unfair and you know better than to treat your employees like that.” Victor paused, the break giving Oswald time to digest his words. “You were in their place once. Right?”

Victor was still stroking him and Oswald had grown hard against his thighs. 

“Yes… I suppose that’s true.” He conceded, the hostility gone from his voice. Of course, he still thought Victor was out of line, spanking him like this… But the caresses were very pleasant and the revelation that Victor _liked_ him… They outweighed the anger that he felt. He responded to Victor’s words out of courtesy, but his mind was far from those four idiot henchmen. It was completely on Victor.

Victor paused touching him and Oswald let out a small whine of protest as he shifted impatiently on the other man’s thighs. The friction made him moan, but he would like more. 

“Were you listening to me at all, Oswald?” 

Oswald was caught. 

Oh well. If Victor felt for him, then there was no point in him pretending.

“I confess… You caught me off guard. I had no idea you thought of me as anything other than an employer.” He shifted again, another moan passing his lips. “But this is an unusual time to tell me. Perhaps we could discuss it face to face? Instead of me lying here, like this.” 

He didn’t think his request was unreasonable, but Victor didn’t respond. Oswald felt himself begin to worry.

“Victor?” He pleaded, tempted to look over his shoulder at him but not quite having the courage. “I’m afraid I must ask you this now, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah.” Victor patted his ass, gently, but it didn’t settle Oswald’s nerves. His heart began to beat like a jackhammer inside of his narrow chest and he started to struggle once more, sensing that those horrid smacks weren’t over with yet. “And I agree. It was probably a weird time to tell you. We should talk about it face to face. After this though.”

“W-Wait!”

It hurt, but not as much as the previous ones had. Still enough to make Oswald yelp though.

“Ow! Victor this isn’t fair!” He complained, wriggling for all he was worth and trying to manoeuvre himself out from Victor’s grip. “You can’t confess your feelings for me, then… Then do _this_!” 

“I am doing it though.” Victor replied, and Oswald whined in frustration. If they were going to make this relationship work, he would definitely need to talk to Victor about his stubbornness. “You need it.”

“I most certainly do not!” He protested, gasping in discomfort as the swats began to build on top of each other, and the heat grew into something close to unbearable. He was still hard, but he told himself that was only due to the feeling of Victor rubbingagainst him. True, the smacks were less blistering than before, but they still hurt. They still stung. He wasn’t sure in what universe Victor thought he _needed_ them. 

“Are you going to yell at your subordinates like that again?” Victor asked. 

“What?!” Oswald couldn’t believe he was still concerned about that. “That is none of your- Ow!” 

A harder smack. Oswald felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. 

“I won’t!” He decided that Victor would never stop unless he agreed to that. He could discuss the matter with him _properly_ later. Once he was freed from this humiliating position. “Now would you stop?” 

Victor stopped. But not for long. He reached underneath Oswald and began to undo his pants. 

“Don’t! What are you doing?!” He didn’t understand why Victor was taking his pants down now. He had agreed to his (unreasonable) demands. He should be stopping.

“I think you need a bit more.”

“No, no I don- Ow!”

The sting was sharper on bare skin. The noise louder. It only took seconds for Oswald to come undone at them. As well as the sting, being so exposed added to the punishment, and Oswald quickly found himself promising, far more sincerely, that he wouldn’t raise his voice like that to his subordinates ever, ever, _ever_ again. 

“Do you swear?”

“I swear!” He wailed, the tears that had been collecting in his eyes now running down his face, making a mess of his mascara and leaving dark, wet smudges over his cheeks. “Victor, please!”

This time, instead of expecting Victor to stop, he expected Victor to keep going. However, he did stop. 

“Good.”  

He began to stroke him on the ass again, and just as the slaps had been more painful on bare skin, the caresses were more pleasurable. Oswald had little control over his emotions after such an intense experience, and he could not keep himself from moaning and whimpering in eager gratitude. 

“You’re still hard.” Victor pointed out, as if Oswald wouldn't have noticed. 

Oswald nodded. 

“Did you like it?” Victor asked. His fingertips ghosted over the cleft of the other man’s ass, as if considering moving deeper. Considering pushing into his hole. 

Oswald hesitated.

“I needed it.” He finally answered. 

It had hurt, but now that it was over he felt a certain freedom. He hadn't cried in what felt like months, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling so close to someone before. Now that he was the King, he had to be careful about who he showed his feelings to. It was exhausting. He had more ‘friends’ than ever, but even more enemies. Ever since he had taken control of the city, he had been bottling up his emotions, and occasionally they burst forth in violent spurts of anger. Anger that didn’t help anyone and only served to make him seem like an unjust ruler who didn’t appreciate those beneath him.

Victor had uncorked the bottle, tipped it over and emptied it. He felt freer and less stressed than he had for a long time.

Oswald felt himself be moved so that he was sitting on Victor’s lap, and before he could speak, before he could tell Victor of the details of his revelation, he was being kissed and stroked and held. 

“Oh Victor…” He rocked his hips toward the other man’s hand, climaxing moments later and then going limp against Victor’s rigid form. 

“I really needed that.” He mumbled, voice soft against the other man’s neck, his chin resting on his shoulder. 

“You did.” Victor pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And I’ll give it to you whenever you need it again.”

Oswald sighed contentedly. That sounded nice.


End file.
